I Found
by juebeelieve
Summary: Everyone has a story to tell, I just didn't know that mine would begin with a death. / A probably overused trope of if the main character had a sibling. Slight AU.
1. Without

_**Once upon a time, long ago, I dreamt that I owned things. Twilight wasn't one of these things.**_

 _ **I'll update whenever I find the time to do so. This was written in less than 30 minutes when a creative bug bit me.**_

* * *

I, Michelle Lynn Swan, was born as a last-ditch effort to keep my parent's together. Of course, my birth didn't do anything more than make their already strained marriage fray even more, my mother's insistent need to be away from dreary, too small town we were born in and my settled, complacent father too strong to be ignored.

So, when I hit a year old, and my older sister an impressive 3, my mother simply left one day when dad was away on a fishing trip and hadn't looked back since. There was more to that, I'm sure, but mom never was one to specify; what's in the past belongs in the past, she'd say, looking everywhere but me.

I was a last-ditch effort to keep my parent's together. I was treated as such. Not always a noticeable thing until one experienced it. My sister knew.

Now mom's 6 feet under, being covered up with fresh, dark earth. For once, the blinding rays of sun aren't beating down on the dry land of Phoenix, Arizona. I stand and watch the proceeding with my sister, Bella and a man who, if things had gone Right and not completely and utterly Wrong, would've been our new step-father.

Phil was his name, and baseball was his game. He and mom had this entire plan of traveling the states, playing baseball with teams. Now their dreams were crushed because my mom didn't know how to look both ways while crossing the street.

I still remember the light grasp I had on her hand as we crossed the street, unknowing of what was to come of us.

My leg and hips throb. I shudder back a sob and Bella squeezes my hand in an attempt to comfort me. It helps. Slightly.

I just want to go home and lay down on my bed and forget about the world. If only for today. Today is our last day in Phoenix, after all.

Tomorrow will have us on a plane, the destination the town mom tried so hard for us to forget: Forks, Washington.

I lay in my bed one last time, staring up at the ceiling I knew like the back of my hand. A dent from where I jumped too high and bumped my head into the ceiling, a random crayon mark.

It's more sobering than I would have thought it to be; I feel the pin pricks at my eyes and I struggle to sit up, body aching. I kick the sheets off of me and I make my way to Bella's room. Boxes litter her floor; a mixture of my stuff and hers. I couldn't lift a lot; Bella saw me as a fragile doll.

She's wide awake too. Big brown eyes staring at me through the dim lights of our street. We say nothing as I slide into the space she made, and together we stare up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow comes. Neither of us is ready. Phil sees us off and through tears he wishes us the best. He gives us each a tight hug, a kiss to the top of our head like he used to do with mom and he lets us go. Bella and I watch as he slowly makes his way out of the crowded airport.

"We'll never hear from him again." I don't mean to sound so final or so knowing; but the truth doesn't sting as much I thought it would. Instead I accept it. Phil has a life to live. We're nothing but awful reminders of what could've been. I can't find it in me to be mad about it.

"We won't. Probably. Come on, we don't want to miss our flight." Bella is my guide, and I follow closely behind her.

The flight seems to last forever. I'm content though, looking outside to see that we're above the clouds. My music plays softly through my headphones, and I lean my head against Bella's shoulder. She's nose deep in her worn copy of _Wuthering Heights_ , reading it for what was probably the hundredth time. We sit in content silence, and soon sleep finds me for the last few hours.


	2. Something New

_**As you all probably noticed, I changed a lot of things dealing with the very beginning, which is why I added AU to the summary of the story. Things will continue to change however the base story of Twilight will remain the same. I'll mix the movies and books up into what I hope makes this story flow better.**_

 _ **Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer, not me. Unfortunately.**_

* * *

We meet dad outside the Seattle Airport, and maybe it's because I hadn't seen him since we were smaller, but he looks old, worn.

The gray skies above us doesn't help, highlighting the bags and lines I knew weren't there four years ago.

All three of us stand around awkwardly for a few moments, staring at one another, taking each other in. Something must flicker on in dad's head, and he rushes forward to grab our bags.

Our boxes wouldn't be here until later this week, but dad had assured us that we had necessities taken care of.

"It's so good to see you two." His dark eyes, much like our own, travel back and forth. Maybe the urge to hug us comes, but he gives us a soft smile instead, one that makes the lines around his eyes more defined.

I smile back, though it probably comes off as more of a grimace. I just want to go back to sleep.

"Nice to see you too Cha-Dad." Bella says, the tiny slip up either going unnoticed or dad not having the heart, or emotional capacity to ask about it.

I give her a look of pure and utter confusion when he turns to guide us to his police cruiser, his one and only car, wondering where the whole calling our father by his first name came from.

She gives me an awkward, undecided shrug as a sort of response, a 'I don't know where that came from either,' look on her face. Weird.

Instead of trying to get to the bottom of Bella being more…weirder than usual, I decide to focus on getting to the car. The concrete is slick and puddle filled, after all.

Bella takes the front seat for once, leaving me to sprawl out in the back. I unzip the heavy jacket I put on after we got our luggage and use it as a pillow, looking outside from the odd angle.

Gray and dreary. Just like how mom described it.

I blink and roll over, tuning out the strained conversation that follows between my older sister and my too-old looking dad. I just want to sleep and ignore the ache of my healing body.

So, I do. For the entire 3 hours.

I'm woken up by Bella, who looks clearly uncomfortable. She's leaning over me, blocking my view to the outside.

Her long hair tickles at my cheeks and I'm about to ask her what's wrong when she answers for me. Her voice is a quiet whisper.

"We're here and so are the Black's."

I rub at my eyes, getting the grit off them. My mind still very much asleep doesn't catch up with the first words that spill from my lips.

"That's not nice Bella."

She stares at me, her brain processing what I had just said before snorting back a laugh.

"No, dummy. Not like- Jacob and Billy _Black_."

Oh.

" _Oh._ Oh okay. That makes more sense."

She shakes her head at me, clearly amused and less uncomfortable. Idiot, her eyes say, but it's a good kind of insult, one that I take in stride.

Mission that I didn't know I even had: accomplished.

I sit up and tug my jacket on. While it wasn't freezing yet, there was still a chill that hung in the air.

Sliding out of the car, I stand and stretch. My back pops, along with my arms and leg. For once the aches aren't noticeable. Goodie.

I look towards the end of the driveway, where dad is standing and conversing to an older guy in a wheelchair. Huh. I don't remember Billy being in a wheelchair.

Behind Billy stands a tall, lanky looking boy with long, dark hair. He seems to be half listening to the conversation happening between our dad's, his dark eyes trailing on us. He breaks out in a bright grin, making his way towards us.

I have to crane my neck to look at him, cursing at my tiny height of 5"1. This guy is the same age as me, sort of. I had a few months on him. Still, he towered over the both of us.

"Hi." Bella begins, shifting. She shoves her hands into her jean pockets and I continue to stare. Either he's steeled himself for an incredibly awkward reunion or he just doesn't notice my rude action, staring at Bella with hearts in his eyes.

Gross.

"Hey- Jake. My name's Jake if you don't remember." His voice is still very much like that of a child, but despite his lanky appearance, it fits him.

"I remember. You were falling over yourself to try and keep up with Bella and your sisters." I say, which draws his attention away from Bella to me. Great.

While mom never came back here, due to the shared custody she and my dad finally agreed on, we took a plane over to this town occasionally.

Jake was a huge crybaby, from what my foggy memories tell me. Always crying because he had to stay and play with me.

"Michelle! I didn't even-"

"See me here, right? Puns for days."

He doesn't seem to know what to do with my snarkiness, and I give him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I just woke up."

Bella coughs to cover up a snort that erupts from her throat.


	3. Gifts

**Here's chapter 3 everyone. I really appreciate the support I've been getting for this on the whim story.**

 **Thank you all.**

 **Twilight doesn't belong to me, unfortunately. However Michelle and her, what I hope is consistent narration, does.**

* * *

I stare longingly at the truck, admiring the faded red and rounded exterior. It was ancient, I thought giddily.

Bella got a present in the form of this large, bulky truck, which we both loved.

Dad had bought it from Billy Black after Jake- who become more tolerable the more we hung out together, luckily, fixed it up.

I found out that Billy had diabetes and became wheelchair bound because of it from Jake, who babbled on and on without much prompting. Though it was endearing and less exhausting to have to think of ways to keep the conversation going.

So, quite obviously, Billy couldn't use his truck anymore.

Learning about the accident from dad, and how we were coming to live in Forks, he held onto it and sold it to dad for an incredibly cheap price.

Inside of the truck smelled of cigars and pine, the single seat worn and soft with patches meticulously sewn by Jake, whom blushed brilliantly when I complimented him on it. He'd give me sewing lessons if I give him a date.

Dad gave him a look when he heard the 'd' word, making Jake back up jokingly. I rolled my eyes and waved dad's bad attempts at dad humor off.

I didn't have time for anyone; me, myself and my remaining family were all I needed right now.

After the Black's had left, despite dad asking them to stay for dinner, we end up at the local diner. Bella never looked happier to be behind that wide, worn wheel as she pulled out of the driveway, driving us to the diner.

Looking at the semi-sticky menu, I take a moment to think.

Scrambled or over hard? Bacon or sausage? Decisions, decisions. Curiosity burns at me. Though I knew I didn't necessarily need anything of the present sort.

"So, what'd you get me dad?"

Dad's in the middle of drinking a cup of coffee, a noise escaping him as he coughs. Bella politely hands him a napkin, and he pats at his bushy mustache.

"I uh," he begins, uncertain. "I know you enjoy writing, so there's a surprise in you and Bella's room whenever we get back."

I give him a bright smile, a fast 'thank you' and return to my menu.

The food settles in our belly as we make our way into the house, dad having taken our bags to our room while I was asleep earlier. It's warm, cozy. Familiar and small.

This is the house mom and dad once shared in a happier time, long ago.

I follow behind Bella, dad coming behind as we begin on the small stair case. The steps are few and spaced just right, making the strain on my leg and hips tolerable.

"I wish we had a room on the ground floor for you Mich. Know you're hurting." Dad says as I make it to the short hallway.

I freeze for a split second at his words. It's the first time he ever mentioned something relating to the accident. I can't decide if it hurts or if I should be happy that he cares- but he _should_. Mom was the mother of his children and I _am_ his youngest-

I fidget with my jacket pocket.

"I'm okay dad. Nothing was broken."

Nothing physically, at least.

He squeezes my shoulder, drawing me into a short, but meaningful hug. Bella is in our room, unknowing of the moment we just shared as we depart, staring at anywhere but each other.

He leads me to the small room Bella and I would be sharing. I take in the pale, sky blue of the walls and the wood floors. A shag carpet takes up half the room, and in front of the main window that overlooks the front of the house is a desk made up of dark mahogany.

The desk is a worn looking thing, with a set of drawers lining the top and the sides. As I step closer, I see carved leaves curling up the legs, vines acting like a snake as they slither down. A plainer, yet still beautiful chair is tilted at an angle, welcoming my rear with a soft cushion.

I sit, and look at my dad and Bella. They offer a soft, loving look as they watch me shift, getting used to the chair. Tears burn at my eyes.

"Thank you, dad."

This desk. I remember mom mentioning it in a passing memory. It was hers.

It was the only thing she missed.


	4. First Day

**Longer than normal chapter, yay. Hope you all enjoy.**

 **Twilight doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.**

* * *

We had a week before school started, which we spent unpacking our boxes, mourning when we thought the other wasn't looking and trying to adjust to our very, very different environment. It rained consistently, the patters of raindrops against the window pane filling the silence of our room.

Bella strung Christmas lights along the ceiling, hooks keeping them in place. I watched her closely as she did so from my-mom's- desk, teasing as she wobbled on the bed. Clumsy Bella at it again.

"Don't fall Bella."

She flopped her hands down and glared at me, but the smile threatening her lips ruined it.

"Oh, shut up. You've been at that desk all day teasing me. You come do something."

She was right; I'd been writing at the desk all day, catching up with my entries.

I was, after all, two weeks behind.

In one, incredibly heavy box of mine were notebooks. Filled top to bottom with words of varying neatness, these words and sometimes doodles made up what most people called a diary.

Though mine was becoming more like an autobiography with how long it was getting. But that's not the point.

"I am doing something. Just not anything physically demanding."

Bella gave me 'are you kidding me?' look and flopped down, having strung the lights up completely. I appreciated the fact that we wouldn't be in complete darkness; with the woods peering into our room, I felt as if there was something watching, waiting.

I could also get up to go to the restroom without waking up Bella with bumping into something.

So yes, I really, really appreciated it.

"What are you writing anyways?"

I close the notebook and set my pen down on top of it. I stand and realize with a startle that my body doesn't ache. At all. When did that happen? It was too fast; this wasn't right- pain was something that's been there since-

It was my reminder.

"Mich look at me." Bella had gotten up somewhere between my swirling, tsunami like thoughts. She grips my hands now with hers. The warmth of them is soothing, settling.

I blink and focus. The thoughts vanish like ash in the wind. How terrifying.

"Hi."

We don't talk about what happened in our room. We hang out for a few more hours before we turn in for bed, not ready for our first day tomorrow.

I was entering high school and I'd have to be the new girl alongside with Bella. How fun.

"Would it be lame if I sat with you for lunch?" I ask, timid for the first time in a long while, staring up from my pillow. Bella's sitting up and leaning against our bedframe. She looks down from her book, the title too unreadable in the lowlight of the Christmas lights. That couldn't be good for her eyes.

She sets the thing down on her nightstand and reaches for me, settling her hand in between my shoulders. My arm brushes her leg and I sigh as she begins to rub circles into my back.

"No, no it wouldn't. I would like that, actually."

I nod, closing my eyes.

"Good. Because I was going to do that anyways."

"Dork."

Sleep eventually finds the both of us, and we wake up to the alarm blaring, drowning out the sound of perpetual rain. Sluggishly moving around, we get dressed in warm layers with matching bright yellow rain boots.

Grabbing our backpack and a pack of pop tarts from the kitchen, I shiver when Bella opens the front door. It's freezing, wet feeling and the sky is barely bright enough to be considered daytime; the moon still in clear view.

"Can we go home?" I say as the engine roars to life, the sound covering up my words easily.

Bella rubs her hands together as the truck warms up, and I'm slightly surprised to hear her reply. The engine was loud enough to be compared to a train's horn, in my honest opinion. It was probably the fact that I just got up 20 minutes prior though, so who knows.

"Unfortunately, no." She slowly, hesitantly backs the truck out of the driveway. Dad's cruiser is nowhere to be seen; it's usual spot halfway on the lawn empty.

"Where's dad?" I ask, fiddling with the old radio. There's static for few moments before noise. Not paying attention to the song and more to the fact that it was filling the silence, I lean back.

"He got called in early this morning. Something about a body?"

I hmmed. He never told us about what he does at work, wanting to keep his personal and work life separate. It must've been something…different about it, if he was able to tell a half-awake Bella.

"How scary."

She nodded, eyes never leaving the rain slick road.

"You got that right."

I fidget with the piece of paper, wishing that the floor would swallow me up. I stand in the front of my English class, wanting to do nothing more than to blend into the background or even melt into the dirty, scuffed filled floor.

Bella had taken the reigns and somehow lead me to my first class without the getting the both of us lost. After giving her a squeezing hug, I sat in the very back and pulled out my notebook, ready to learn.

We had gotten here at Forks High School early so we could avoid situations like this; but it seems that I couldn't escape my fate of wanting to die than having to do public speaking.

Did my teacher- his name didn't matter at this point because he was my new enemy- did this with all the new students? It would sort of make sense since most these staring kids new each other since what was probably birth, but this was completely unfair.

He wouldn't sign this stupid slip until I spoke. This should be illegal.

I stare down at the floor, focusing on a scuff mark. I swallow back a lump forming at the base of my throat. I want to die.

"I- I uh- my name is M-michelle. Michelle Swan."

Silence, staring. _Wanting to die a quick, merciful death_.

"It's nice to meet you Michelle." My teacher says, and I take that as a cue to quickly return to my desk. It's when I'm sitting down that I realized I didn't get him to sign the dang piece of paper. I ignore the curious stares and whispers, slamming my head softly against the table.

This day is going to suck. Why do first days always suck?


	5. Looks

**Life is kicking my butt. It's okay though.**

 **Twilight isn't mine.**

* * *

I'm barely alive when lunch rolls around, dragging my feet through the short lunch line and to where I saw Bella sitting.

She's made friends, or at least people to sit with, which is an impressive feat considering its Bella- and they all pause their conversation to look at me. I plop down into a seat right next to Bella, picking at the mushy pasta on my tray.

I rested my head against the table when I realized that nothing here was edible. This was my go-to move when in the face of socializing today, well minus the pasta picking. Head meet table.

"Hey," Bella says, patting my back, her voice a soft whisper. "You okay?"

I knew she knew I wasn't, so I just keep my head down, leaning into her side. The noise of the cafeteria is close to being too much for me to handle, so I try to focus on my sister's heartbeat.

I hear a small chorus of 'aww's' coming from the few people sitting at the table. I automatically dislike the group a tad. Just a small, tiny tad.

A few minutes pass and I hear Bella ask a question to one of the girls, curiosity tinging her voice.

"Who are _they?_ " Curious myself, I lift my head from Bella's body to look to where she was quite obviously staring. A group of 5 people sat at the furthest table, closest to the windows and away from the rest of us.

Too pale and too gorgeous, the lot of them were. The 3 men- because there's no way I could call them boys- are of all different builds and appearance, yet seemed to be carved from the careful, talented hands of Michelangelo himself; features soft yet sharp if focused on for too long.

The two women, opposites of each other in appearance and most likely personalities, were gorgeous, looking like models of varying careers. They still reminded me of statues; their features a strange mix of sharp and soft, unmoving and too perfect.

None of them moved, which was strange. Staring at their untouched, almost empty trays, and looking away from each other as if they had gotten into an argument.

"They all look constipated." It's the first thing I say, which causes the three boys at our table- whose names I don't care enough about- to burst into laughter. Bella snorts on her water, trying to hold back cough as she chokes.

I'm suddenly wishing that I had something more…philosophical to say.

"I mean…" I trail off, looking back to see the big one- hulking and too big for the tiny seat- trying to hold in laughter, body trembling at the effort. The blonde- the woman- is staring us down, her bright, honey brown eyes cold. I don't even try to look at the other three, slamming my head into Bella's chest. She makes a whoosh noise, a 'oof' as I felt my cheeks burn with a weird mixture of guilt and embarrassment.

How in the world did they hear that? I'm not that loud. I think.

"T-that's-" the girl begins, trying to talk over the boys still doubled over in laughter. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

That's a mouthful of info to digest.

"So like…they aren't obviously related, right?" I ask, hesitantly, hoping nothing else I said would be as bad as my first words.

Blood wasn't an important thing to consider people as family but curiosity strikes me once again because there seemed to be couples within the group, which was incredibly strange.

It seems like a question she was waiting for, launching onto another shorter spiel that takes me a moment to digest.

"Oh no, but they are like, _together-together_ \- besides Edward he's like, girlfriend-less." I notice that she sounds mighty bitter about the last part, glaring down at her own food as she spoke. Someone's angry.

"Which ones are the Cullen's?" Bella asks, resuming in her attempts to not be so obvious at staring. Which she completely failed at, mind you. I snuck a few glances myself, focusing on the big one who was slowly coming down from his sudden fit of laughter at the expense of the blonde woman.

"That would be the two black haired ones-Emmett and Alice and the redhead, Edward. The Hales are the blonds. All of them are either in our grade or are seniors."

Ah. So, I'll never see them. Okay. I hum tunelessly and soon find out from one of the boys from the table that I have time to doze off before history. Burying my hands into Bella's jacket pocket, I settle against her shoulder and fall into a light sleep.


End file.
